


All the King's Horses

by ChocolatteKitty_Kat



Series: A Noble Contradiction [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolatteKitty_Kat/pseuds/ChocolatteKitty_Kat
Summary: Caspian deals with loneliness after the Pevensies leave Narnia.





	All the King's Horses

**Author's Note:**

> The works within All the King's Horses explore Caspian's adventures during the three years between Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
> 
> Setting: a few weeks after the events of Prince Caspian.

The newly-crowned King Caspian X shivered. He was settled comfortably--well, as comfortably as one could be on a huge metal-and stonework chair--in his throne, the throne of Narnia, in the great hall of the castle of the Telmarines. Despite the warmth of the summer’s day outside, the heavy stone walls of the castle kept the interior blessedly cool. However, with the chill of the throne at his back, and of the air of the castle, not to mention that he hadn’t moved in what felt like absolute hours, Caspian was starting to feel like a block of ice.

Arrayed around the hall in front of him, most of them seated on the chairs that had once belonged to the Telmarine council of Lords, were Caspian’s new Lords and advisors. There was Trumpkin, the Red Dwarf, next to Trufflehunter the Badger. Reepicheep, although he had no desire to be a Lord, had consented to be one of Caspian’s advisors, and so had a seat as well. The other seats were occupied by satyrs, minotaurs, fauns, dwarves, and Talking Beasts, along with a few of the remaining Telmarines. There were two centaurs in the chamber as well, and a single brown bear. In one of the seats nearest Caspian sat Doctor Cornelius. The young king valued his old tutor’s opinions higher than almost anyone else’s, and had appreciated the half-dwarf’s familiar presence over his first few weeks as king.

In the center of the chamber, one of the centaurs stood, informing the rest of the council of the results of his most recent reading of the stars. Caspian suppressed a yawn. As interesting as the speech was, the young king was unaccustomed to sitting still for so long--especially after the events of the past few weeks, as he had fought to reclaim Narnia from his wicked uncle alongside the four Kings and Queens of old. He fidgeted slightly in the throne. The bright sun streaming through the windows of the throne room was beginning to call to him.

Quite suddenly, Caspian realized that the hall had fallen silent. A quick glance around showed all eyes on him. Caspian cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Very good, Arsithus,” he stammered. “Thank you for sharing your prophecies with us.”

The centaur arched an eyebrow, but wordlessly made his way back to the edge of the chamber. Caspian made a mental note to ask Cornelius what had been said, and to apologize to Aristhus for his inattention later.

Cornelius stood and looked around the chamber. “Is there any more business for the day?” he asked, turning fully to look at the occupant of each seat. When no-one responded, Cornelius nodded firmly. “Then I suggest that we end our session for the day, and reconvene at our next scheduled meeting time.”

Caspian sank back into his throne as the lords and Narnians all stood and began to make their way out of the chamber. He sent a grateful smile in Cornelius’s direction before the doctor turned, sending a wink back towards the king in exchange.

Once the chamber had emptied of everyone but Caspian and Reepicheep--the mouse hardly ever left the king’s side, insisting that danger could come at any moment, and appointing himself as the king’s bodyguard--the king stood. The mouse hopped off of his chair and fell into step behind Caspian.

“Hello, Reep,” Caspian smiled down at him. “What did you think of all of that?”

The mouse glanced around, as though making sure that they were truly alone, and replied in a conspiratorial tone: “A bit stuffy for my tastes, sire. On a day like today, I would much rather be out and about, enjoying the sunshine and practicing my swordplay.”

Caspian hid a smile. “In that case, it sounds like we’re of the same mind. How do you feel about a ride, Reepicheep?”

“That sounds magnificent, sire,” the mouse positively skipped alongside his king the rest of the way to the stables.

Once Destrier was saddled and led out of the stable, Caspian mounted up.

“Sire!” came a call from across the courtyard. Caspian turned to see one of the younger centaurs trotting towards him. “Where are you going?”

“Just out for a ride,” Caspian said with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’m not running away.”

“That’s not what I was worried about, sire,” the centaur gave a nervous chuckle. “It’s just… are you sure that’s safe, your majesty?”

“What do you mean?” Caspian asked.

“Well, you never know what sort of dangers there might be out there,” he scraped the ground with one hoof. “And you are the king now…”

“What is your name?” Caspian asked.

“Avernetrios, sire,” the centaur bowed deeply.

“Avernetrios,” Caspian repeated. “There’s nothing to worry about. My enemies are all either dead or far away from here. Not to mention, I have King Peter’s sword with me, and Reepicheep to watch my back.” The Talking Mouse was perched in front of Caspian’s saddle, tiny hands gripping Destrier’s mane firmly.

Before Avernetrios could reply, Caspian touched his heels to Destrier’s sides, and the horse set off in a determined trot.

“Your majesty!” Avernetrios called after them.

“If you’re worried for my safety, feel free to come along!” Caspian called over his shoulder as they rode through the gate. As soon as they were on the open bridge, he nudged the horse’s sides again, and Destrier was off like an arrow from a bow.

The wind that rushed past them whipped at Caspian’s hair and stung his eyes. Reepicheep hugged himself close to Destrier’s neck, the wind tearing at his ears and making the red feather he always wore bob and flutter. As they reached the far side of the bridge, Caspian hear another set of hoofbeats echoing around them. A glance over his shoulder revealed Avernetrios in full gallop, quickly gaining on them. Caspian leaned forward, hunching down close to Reepicheep and the horse’s neck.

The two raced through the small town outside the castle and soon emerged onto the open road. After a few minutes at a hard gallop, Caspian brought Destrier back down to a walk, the horse’s sides heaving from the exertion. “Good boy,” he murmured, patting the horse’s neck. He ignored the centaur walking a few feet behind them, and allowed Destrier to wander aimlessly along the path. Reepicheep was also silent--a rarity for the chatty Mouse--as though he sensed his monarch’s darkening mood. Because, despite his hopes to the contrary, Caspian did not find his attitude at all improved by the fresh air.

Before long, Caspian took up his reigns again, beginning now to lead Destrier, although even he wasn’t sure quite where they were going. At his back, Avernetrios remained silent, and there were times that Caspian managed to forget that he was there.

Eventually, Caspian drew Destrier up to a stop. They were now at the top of a cliff, overlooking a great field. He knew that they were close to Aslan’s How and the Stone Table, although he couldn’t quite place their location.

Beside the king, Avernetrios cleared his throat softly. “Your majesty, do you know where we are?”

Caspian stared down at the field below them, a great green expanse broken by a blue ribbon of a river glistening in the late afternoon sun on the far side of the meadow. “I know that we’re near Aslan’s How, and I think also the Fords of Beruna.”

“Correct,” Avernetrios nodded. He stamped his front hooves and shook long, wavy hair out of his face. “This is, in fact, the site of the First Battle of Beruna, where High King Peter and King Edmund led the Old Narnians in battle against the White Witch, and where Aslan killed her, ending her reign of terror.”

Caspian smiled slightly and gripped the hilt of Rhindon, hung at his hip, running his thumb over the carved lion’s head on the pommel.

“Just beyond that bend in the river,” Avernetrios continued, pointing into the distance, “are the Fords of Beruna, where you and the Kings and Queens of Old led the Telmarine army to face Aslan’s justice.”

Caspian nodded. “Were you there?”

“I was injured during the battle at the How,” Avernetrios replied. “I did not see what happened at the Fords.”

Caspian nodded again. “Thank you for standing at my side that day,” he said.

“It was the right thing,” Avernetrios replied.

Caspian looked over and took in the centaur for the first time since their meeting. Avernetrios was young, probably not much older than Caspian, if at all. His horse’s body was a rich red, and his legs were dappled with brown. He was tall and regal and broad-shouldered, with strong arms, and one of his hands rested on the hilt of a greatsword strapped to his flank. His head-hair was a vibrant red, brighter than the hair of his body, and had coppery highlights; it was long and wavy, falling nearly far enough to brush against the join of his human and horse bodies. His skin was darker than Caspian’s, rich and earthy, and darkened further by the sun. He had wide brown eyes that seemed to stare deep into Caspian’s soul when they made eye contact.

Caspian smiled slightly and turned back to look over the fields. “Thank you for coming with me today, Avernetrios.”

Avernetrios inclined his head. “It was my honor to ride with you, sire.”

“Your majesty,” Reepicheep piped up. “It does seem to be getting late. Perhaps we should head back to the castle?”

“You’re right,” Caspian noticed for the first time that the sky in front of them was beginning to grow darker. He touched his heels to Destrier and wheeled the horse around, heading back for the main roads. “Avernetrios?” he turned to look back at the centaur, who had fallen in behind them.

“Yes, sire?” the centaur cocked his head to the side.

“Ride beside me, please,” Caspian said.

Wordlessly, Avernetrios obliged, trotting up beside Destrier. He kept pace with the warhorse easily. Now that they were side by side, Caspian noticed that Avernetrios kept his eyes on the forest around them, ever wary and alert. In front of Caspian, Reepicheep did the same, staring deep into the darkening woods.

“Thank you,” Caspian said suddenly, looking between them.

“For what, your majesty?” Avernetrios asked.

“For riding out with me today. Both of you.” Caspian explained. “Ever since I returned to my uncle’s castle, I have felt so alone. But today, for the first time in… weeks, really, I have been reminded what it feels like to be with others.” He glanced at the centaur beside him and smiled. “To be with people who could become friends.”

Avernetrios smiled. “I am glad to have been of service to your majesty.” His smile broadened. “And I would be glad to one day call you friend.”

“Well, first off,” Caspian grinned teasingly, “you really have to stop calling me ‘your majesty’. My name is Caspian, and friends don’t call each other by their titles.” He didn’t bother to have the same conversation with Reepicheep--he had lost that battle weeks ago.

“Sire, I couldn’t!” Avernetrios said. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

“At least when we’re alone?” Caspian suggested. “I won’t tell if you don’t--and neither will Reepicheep.”

Avernetrios laughed. “If you insist… Caspian.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian, or any of the characters, plotlines, ideas/concepts, etc, from them. I do, however, own these stories and their plots, as well as all original ideas, concepts, and characters presented herein. Thank you!


End file.
